


Mini-fic: Valentino Fucking Dies

by Frink



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor Is Psychotic, Gang warfare, Murder, Revenge Fantasy, power struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29604081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frink/pseuds/Frink
Summary: A scenario in which Alastor and Valentino meet for the first time. Things go swimmingly.Well, unless you're Valentino.
Kudos: 9





	Mini-fic: Valentino Fucking Dies

**Author's Note:**

> Probably not anywhere close to canon. Just an interesting little "what if?" scenario. Loosely inspired by Trevor's introduction scene in GTA V.

"Look, look, look, Alastor, he didn't mean nothin' by it..."

Angel Dust pleaded with Alastor, a mildly peeved look on the deer demon's face.

"Look... Al... We were drunk, some things were said, you know Val, he likes shooting his mouth off sometimes!" Angel said, pushing into Alastor's chest, trying and failing to impede his movement.

Valentino, the moth adult movie mogul and eccentric superstar pimp, was busy having cocktails with his entourage on the top floor of his luxurious penthouse apartment. He laughed and sang with his many groupies around the coffee table when Angel and Alastor burst through the elevator.

Though the studio's audio system continued thumping, the room got noticably quiet.

Alastor looked calm yet focused, Angel Dust looked terrified.

"Hey bitch!" Valentino snapped. "What did I tell you about bringing sewer trash into my home!"

Angel desperately fumbled for answers. "I'm so sorry Val! Normally he keeps out of other people's business! I don't know what's gotten into him lately and..."

Alastor quietly walked up to Val's fine leather couch and extended a hand. "Excuse me, Mr.... Valentino was it? Alastor. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Valentino looked around the room as if this were some sort of prank. "The fuck is this guy? You my new butler or something?"

"Actually, I'm an overlord like you."

The room exploded in laughter. Val chuckled. "Right. And I'm Mother fucking Theresa." 

Alastor blinked, unamused. He paused for a short second.

Normally among his friends, Alastor was always considered so gentle and friendly, logical and cool headed. The kind of person that's really hard to get on their bad side. The kind of demon to talk his problems out rather than resort to violence.

Which is why what happened next was generally considered very surprising.

Alastor leaned down and grabbed Val by his scrawny little neck, his eyes shifting from amusement to confusion. In one fell motion, Alastor threw him face down onto the coffee table, chipping several of his teeth in the process. Val screamed in agony, his lady friends fleeing in terror.

At this point Val would have taken this injury as a lesson not to fuck with Alastor. To lick his wounds and walk away with a small shred of his pride still intact.

But Alastor was not interested in teaching lessons.

Using his hoof-soled boots as a bludgeon, he repeatedly hammered into Valentino's head, stomping him into the ground.

Strike after strike, blow after blow. Tiny blood vessels appeared in Alastor's eyes, corneas reflecting the rapidly reddening image in front of him. Adrenaline pumped through his body, his breathing grew more rapid. Murderous rage engulfed him.

Angel tried to stop him. "That's enough Al!"

Alastor continued stomping.

"I said that's enough!"

He continued stomping, smile growing wider.

"Al STOP! You're killing him!"

Valentino had fallen unconscious after the first two kicks. After about a dozen or so, blood started pooling on the ground below his head. Audible crunching came from his skull. After about a minute of this, his arms stopped reflexively covering his head, his body grew limp.

Angel saw a glimpse of brain matter flying off of Al's boot. He crawled up into a ball and started vomiting.

The thuds eventually slowed, and Alastor shifted the messy hair out of his face. He looked down at his trousers. "Gonna need to use some extra detergent tonight" he thought to himself.

Angel Dust let out a bloodcurdling scream. "What. The. Fuck. Have you DONE!"

Alastor unshuffled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped some blood from his cheek and monocle. "Well, now he's no longer a problem for you, now is he? AHAHAHAHA"

Angel simply looked on in horror.

"And now it looks like I control all of his businesses. Not bad for one day's work, wouldn't you say, Angel boy?"

Alastor and Angel walked back into the elevator to the ground floor. One gleeful, one queasy.

That day, the district once run by Valentino learned to fear and respect Alastor. The adult industry workers under his control were treated to more humane living conditions, though they were still expected to bring in the same amount of money as before. They also had to swear undying loyalty to the radio demon.

Angel Dust sauntered back to his room at the hotel. No longer would he face Val's sexual abuse and torment, though he feared he may have traded one nightmare for another. Just what was Alastor capable of? What were the limits to his power? And if he ever snapped, could anyone even hope to bring an end to his psychosis?

Angel Dust shuddered at the thought.


End file.
